Rise of the Dovah-kin
by Alexis Renn
Summary: When Jofari is captured along with Stormcloak soldiers, she faces almost certain death. But when an unexpected dragon attack allows her to escape, Jofari must decide whether to hide from her destiny, or embrace it... This is my first fanfiction, so any suggestions or constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

I awoke slowly to the rattling of a carriage. I opened my eyes and sat up quickly, trying to figure out what was going on. My hands were bound, and three other men shared the carriage with me. The driver of the carriage was a legion soldier, and my stomach clenched in fear. This couldn't be good.

"Hey, you. You're finally awake," said the man sitting across from me. He was clearly a Nord, and wore his blonde hair shoulder length, with a braid near the front. I couldn't help but notice he was dressed in a Stormcloak uniform. He must be a member of the rebellion, then.

"You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there," the man continued.

He was right of course, but that didn't explain why _I_ was here. I wasn't a part of the rebellion. I was a simple farmer. What had I done wrong? It didn't seem fair that I was to be punished simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I should have answered him, but I said nothing. I was already in enough trouble as it was. The last thing I needed was to be seen associating with Stormcloaks. Maybe I would be able to clear up any confusion when we reached wherever it was we were going.

"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy," a dark-haired man, presumably the thief, growled. "If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and be halfway to Hammerfell." Looking at his tattered, threadbare clothes, I couldn't help but wonder if he really would have made it all the way to Hammerfell. He didn't look so good. His face was gaunt, and the dark shadows around his eyes made me think that he wouldn't have survived the journey there anyway.

Turning to me, the man said, "You there. You and me—we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

I agreed with him wholeheartedly, but before I could say anything, the Stormcloak soldier said, "We're all brothers and sisters in binds now thief."

"Shut up back there!" the Imperial soldier yelled. I was glad that I hadn't been doing any of the talking. Maybe that would help me plead my case later.

Ignoring the Imperial soldier, the thief continued talking. "And what's wrong with him, huh?" he asked, nodding to the carriage's other occupant. I was curious myself. Unlike the rest of us, he was gagged in addition to being bound. Whoever he was, he must have been a real troublemaker.

"Watch your tongue," the Stormcloak snapped. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King." My eyes widened in shock. No wonder he was gagged. Ulfric was legendary. If the rumors were to be believed, Ulfric had killed High King Torygg with only the power of his voice. I wasn't sure I believed that such things were possible, of course. Everyone had heard of the reclusive Greybeards, but surely if it were possible for a man to command such power, more people would. Somehow, he wasn't at all what I had imagined. He looked…humbled. Like he had already resigned himself to death. Even sitting down, it was obvious that he was a towering figure, but he looked like a man who had lost all hope. I had trouble picturing him as the self-serving opportunist everyone claimed he was.

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion," the thief said in awe. I rolled my eyes, wondering if the thief had taken a blow to the head when he was captured. He seemed content to state the obvious, rather than actually contribute to the conversation.

"But if they've captured you…Oh gods, where are they taking us?" the thief cried. Apparently, he had just realized that we were being brought to our deaths. That kind of confirmed my suspicion that he wasn't the smartest man alive. I wondered how he had managed to survive as a thief. He probably wasn't a very good one. He wasn't smart enough to be.

"I don't know where we're going, but Sovengarde awaits," the Stormcloak soldier replied.

"No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening," the thief fretted. I had the sudden, almost uncontrollable urge to laugh at his frantic denial of the situation. _Maybe if we all wish really, really hard that this isn't happening, we'll wake up and this will all have been a bad dream,_ I thought sarcastically. I would have said it out loud, but I still sort of hoped that I would be able to talk my way out of being executed, and I couldn't risk spoiling what little chance I had.

"Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?" the Stormcloak asked.

"Why do you care?" the thief said sullenly.

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

He didn't ask me about where I was from, and I didn't offer any information. The less he was associated with me, the better, as far as I was concerned.

"Rorikstead. I'm…I'm from Rorikstead," the thief answered.

Before they could say anything else, the Imperial Soldier called, "General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!" Apparently, we were here. And the Imperial's words left little doubt that we were to be executed. My stomach clenched nervously. I _really_ hoped I could talk my way out of this. Otherwise, my life would be over in a few short minutes.

"Good. Let's get this over with," General Tullius replied. His words earned my respect. He was dealing with prisoners of the rebellion (at least a couple of them, anyway), but it was apparent that he took no pleasure in it. That was good. Maybe he would be reasonable.

"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me," the thief prayed. I doubted his prayers would do him any good, but maybe they would give him comfort in his last moments, anyway.

"Look at him, General Tullius the Military Governor," the Stormcloak snarled. "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this." He clearly didn't think very highly of the Thalmor. Not surprising, I supposed, given that he was a Stormcloak. I had never had anything to do with the Thalmor, but if they were working with Imperials, I didn't have a problem with them.

"This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in," the Stormcloak said. It seemed strange to me that he would be concerned with mead at a time like this. He was only moments from death, and his only thought was of alcohol? I wondered if he was an alcoholic, but decided it didn't really matter. Besides, I felt like I could use a drink myself, even though I didn't normally drink. Something about facing my own eminent death made me wish for a pint.

"Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe," he continued. I looked at him strangely. How had we gone from talking about mead and girls to talking about Imperials? I wanted to tell him that the Imperials were still keeping people safe, and that he was here because he was a Stormcloak and a traitor, but given my current situation, I suspected that my words would fall on deaf ears. I was as much of a prisoner as he was, and I hadn't been a part of the rebellion. So why weren't the Imperials keeping _me_ safe? _They will, _I thought, _just as soon as I explain to them that I don't really deserve to be here._

As the carriage passed through town, I could hear the whispers of the townspeople, wondering what we had done to deserve death.

"Who are they daddy?" a little boy asked. "Where are they going?"

"You need to go inside, little cub," the boy's father replied, ushering his son into their house and glaring at us as if we were going to corrupt his little boy with our vile ways.

"Why? I want to watch the soldiers," the boy argued.

"Inside the house. Now," the father insisted. He looked as if he were going to spit at us as the carriage rolled past, but apparently he respected the Imperials too much to do so.

"Whoa," the Imperial soldier called, and the carriage came to a stop. We were surrounded by Imperial Soldiers, and everyone started to panic a little. The sight of the executioner standing across the courtyard holding his sharpened axe didn't help soothe our nerves.

"Why are we stopping?" the thief asked. Yup. There was definitely something wrong with his mind. If he couldn't figure out what was going on, even with the executioner standing there, then he was even dumber than I thought.

"Why do you think?" the Stormcloak asked him. "End of the line." He had much more patience for the half-wit than I would have, apparently. "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us," he said, pushing out of the cart.

I would have been happy to keep the gods waiting for me. I didn't plan to die today. This was it. This was the moment they were going to realize that I didn't actually belong here, and I would explain to them that this was all just a big misunderstanding, and they would just let me go.

"No! Wait! We're not rebels!" the thief cried. He wasn't helping his case at all. He was just being a coward. And besides, even if he wasn't part of the rebellion, he was still a thief. It wasn't like he was innocent. Me on the other hand, I was just an innocent citizen who happened to get tangled up with the wrong crowd. That could hardly be held against me, right?

"Face your death with some courage, thief," the Stormcloak said, pushing him forward.

"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!" The thief was panicking now, and I nearly snorted with disgust. Even if the worst happened, and they decided that I was to die with the others, I wouldn't act like this. I would face my death with some dignity, at least.

"Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time," the Captain of the Imperial Guard called, ignoring the thief's senseless blubbering. We had been joined by other Stormcloak prisoners. Apparently, today was a good day to be executed.

"Empire loves their damn lists," the Stormcloak soldier sighed.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm," they called. The towering man stepped forward calmly. I admired his collection, even in the face of death. I could see how he had commanded so much respect, even if I disagreed with his cause.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!" the Stormcloak said fervently.

"Ralof of Riverwood," called the Imperial. The Stormcloak stepped forward. I finally had a name to go with the overly talkative man.

"Lokir of Rorikstead." At this, the thief seemed to lose his mind.

"No, I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!" he cried, making a run for it. "You're not going to kill me!" Even before the Captain of the Guard called halt and the archers raised their bows, I knew he was a goner. He didn't have a chance. Moments later, he lay face down on the cobblestones with an arrow in his back. He had died a coward, and hastened his own death, the fool.

"Anyone else feel like running?" the Imperial Captain demanded, turning back to the rest of us. No one else was that stupid. We all just stood there silently, waiting for the next name to be called.

"Wait. You there. Step forward," the man with the list said, gesturing to me. I obliged, stepping forward to meet his gaze.

"Who are you?" he asked me.

"Jofari the Blackthorn, sir," I replied respectfully.

"You picked a bad time to come home to Skyrim, kinsman," he told me. That seemed promising. All of this was just bad timing. Maybe now they would let me go.

"Captain. What should we do? She's not on the list," he said. I held my breath, hoping she would instruct him to let me go.

"Forget the list. She goes to the block," she commanded, crushing any hope I had left. In that moment, I lost all respect for the Imperials. All my life, I had been told that they would protect me. And yet here they were, ready to kill me for crimes that I didn't commit, just because I happened to be here. It wasn't fair, and I hated them for proving that at least some of the rumors about the weakness of the Imperials was true.

"By your orders, Captain," the Imperial said. His tone suggested that he didn't agree with her decision, but he also didn't stand up for me. Maybe he was a decent sort, but he was also a coward, and I couldn't respect him any more than I could respect the ruthless Captain.

"I'm sorry," he said, trying to console me. "We'll make sure your remains are returned to the Summerset Isle." As if that made this any better! I was still going to be dead. It wasn't fair. I wanted to scream, to lash out, to do…_something._ But I didn't dare. I wouldn't risk being shot the way that coward Lokir had been. I followed the captain over to where the other prisoners were already standing, and awaited my death.


	2. Chapter 2

It's hard to describe the passage of time when you know you're about to die. It's like every moment of anticipating your death is excruciating and drags on forever, but at the same time, you know you only have moments left to live, and it's not nearly enough time. They kind of cancel out, I guess, and you wind up not feeling much of anything. Or at least, that's what it was like for me, as I stood there waiting for death to come.

I listened disinterestedly as General Tullius said, "Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the voice to murder his king and usurp his throne." So the rumors were true—Ulfric really had commanded the power of the voice and murdered the High King. The knowledge didn't really matter to me anymore. I was dead anyways, so what was the point of even caring?

I should have listened to my parents. I should never have left the farm. But no, I had needed to go out and seek adventure. I had longed to join the Companions, to kill bandits, to explore the world. Well, just look where that had gotten me. Sure, farming might have been a boring life, but at least I would have lived longer. Oh well. There was nothing to be done about it now, other than to hope that my parents would receive my remains and know what had happened to their daughter.

"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace," Tullius continued. I just rolled my eyes. _I_ hadn't started this war. I just happened to be passing through at the same time as those stupid Stormcloaks the Imperials had ambushed. They were only killing me because they were too proud to admit their mistake. They couldn't afford the scandal of letting it be publicly known that they had wrongfully captured someone. That might lose them some credibility, and they could scarcely afford to lose any more of that then they already had.

There was a loud cry from somewhere in the distance, and we all looked around, searching for its source. When none was readily apparent, the Imperials continued their little ceremony. They wouldn't delay the death of Ulfric and his comrades a moment longer than absolutely necessary.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved…" the Priestess began, reading us our last rights. I sighed. This would take a while.

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with," a Stormcloak soldier growled, stepping forward to the waiting executioner.

"As you wish," the priestess said, surprised by his eagerness. I watched, wishing I had half the courage he displayed.

"Come on. I haven't got all morning," the Stormcloak barked. I wondered if he was truly as fearless as he seemed, or if he was losing control of his nerves, and wished to die a hero, not a coward. Either way, his actions were admirable. He knelt down and positioned his head on the block.

His last words were, "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" The executioner raised his axe, ready to strike. At the last minute, I looked away. I couldn't bring myself to watch, knowing that I would be in his place in a few minutes. I still heard the sickening crack of the axe splitting through his spine, and the thud of his head hitting the ground. I felt as though I were going to puke. But no, I needed to keep it together. I needed to be brave. They could take my life, but I would _not_ let them take my dignity.

"Death to the Stormcloaks!" an onlooker cheered. I was disgusted by the audience that had gathered. I didn't support the rebellion, but I also couldn't see celebrating the deaths of my fellow Nords. Even If they were misguided, they deserved more respect than that.

Behind me, Ralof murmured, "As fearless in death as he was in life." The Stormcloak served as a model to us all for what it meant to die with dignity. I hoped I would be able to face my own death with as much courage. The strange shriek from earlier came again, closer this time. I was so busy listening that I missed the Captain calling my name.

"I said, Jofari the Blackthorn," she said, sounding annoyed. Startled, I stepped forward, clenching my teeth to keep them from chattering. This was it. I was really going to die, here and now. An Imperial guard shoved me roughly down, and I laid my head down on the block, closed my eyes, and waited for the end to come.

Only, it didn't. "What in Oblivion is that?" cried General Tullius in fear. I opened my eyes. Anything that scared Tullius was worthy of noticing. I caught sight of something large and black soaring across the sky. I had never seen anything like it in my life. _Is this a sign from the Gods_? I wondered. _Is this the end of time?_

"Dragon!" a Stormcloak shrieked. Good. I wasn't crazy. Other people were seeing it too. Yup. It was definitely the end of the world. No one had seen a dragon…well...ever. I had grown up hearing stories of Alduin and dragon slayers, but they were just that—stories. Everyone knew they weren't true. Except there was a dragon here, so maybe there was _some_ truth to the old stories.

Before anyone could move, the dragon had landed on top of a tower in front of me. He bellowed a fierce cry that shook the ground, and a brick came loose from the tower and struck me on the head. I must have blacked out for a minute, because the next thing I knew, Ralof was shaking my shoulder.

"Hey, Jofari. Get up! Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!" he yelled to me. I sat up, dazed from the blow. My vision was blurred, and the world looked like it was spinning. I wasn't sure I could stand, let alone run. But he was right, it was my only chance. Ralof helped me to my feet, and I ran after him, swaying almost drunkenly.

"This way!" he called when I started to head towards the Imperials, hoping they would be able to protect me. Seeing that he was headed for a tower that should offer some shelter, I followed him, dodging the dragon's flames.

Other Stormcloaks had already taken refuge in the tower, and I noticed with mixed emotion that Ulfric was among them. Ralof seemed heartened to see the man, though. "Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?" he asked, understandably shaken by the fact that we were being attacked by a creature that wasn't supposed to be real.

"Legends don't burn down villages," Ulfric said reasonably. He was right. Even if it didn't make any sense, the fact was, there was a dragon out there. Denying its existence didn't make it any less terrifying. I groaned to myself. Had I escaped a quick, merciful death by axe only to die engulfed in a dragons flames? Surely the gods wouldn't be so cruel!

Just then, there was a crash from higher up within the tower. The dragon had found our hiding place, and we were no longer safe here.

"We need to move, now!" Ulfric shouted above the noise of the crumbling brick and mortar.

"Up through the tower, let's go!" Ralof yelled to me. I looked up, seeing the gaping hole the dragon had left in the side of the tower. Ralof was right. That was our best chance of escape. I followed him up the stairs, ducking as the dragon blew flames through the hole in attempt to incinerate us.

"See that inn on the other side?" Ralof said, pointing to a neighboring building. "Jump through the roof and keep going!" I gulped. The building was a good 8 foot jump from here, and if I missed, I would be dead. Of course, if I stayed here with the dragon, I would be dead anyway. My options weren't good. Steeling my nerves, I prepared to jump.

"Wait, aren't you coming?" I asked.

"I'll follow you in a minute," he told me. "I'm going to see if I can help anyone else through first." I admired his courage, but my sense of self-preservation took over, and I jumped to the inn's roof, lowered myself through a hole in the roof. I was on the second floor of the inn now, almost to safety. That's were the trouble started. The staircase was on fire, and there was no other way to get down. I gulped, said a quick prayer, and jumped. Other than twisting my ankle slightly on landing, I was fine. Running as fast as my weakened ankle would carry me, I run into the street, desperately looking for cover from the dragon. At least my vision had mostly cleared, although there was so much smoke from all the fire that the visibility was still terrible.

I hid behind a group of Imperial soldiers as the dragon sent flames our way.

"Hadvar, you need to get over here now!" an Imperial soldier calling. I recognized the man who came running. He had been the one to notice my name wasn't on the list. The one who hadn't stood up for me.

"Gods…Everyone get back!" he shouted, herding us behind a mostly burnt building. Noticing me, he said, "Still alive Jofari? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way." I hesitated. I didn't trust Hadvar at all. Even if he was a decent guy, his superiors wanted me dead, and he would listen to them and carry out the orders. But I had no other choice, unless I wanted to try to escape on my own. I had never been to Helgen, and my hands were still bound, so I could even wield a weapon. Somehow, going off on my own seemed like a foolish idea. I followed Hadvar reluctantly, hiding behind his drawn sword.

Hadvar led me towards Helgen Keep, which he said was our best chance at escape. I trusted that he was telling me the truth about that, but I planned to ditch him the first chance I got. No point in flaunting my escape to the Imperials.

"Ralof! You dammed traitor. Out of my way!" Hadvar shouted. I looked around and saw that Ralof was also trying to get into the keep. Ralof! He was a Stormcloak. I could trust him not to turn me over to the Imperials. I went and joined him, ignoring the withering look Hadvar shot at me.

"We're escaping, Hadvar," Ralof said. "You're not stopping us this time." He gave me a nod of approval, as though I had just risen in his esteem for me.

"Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovengarde!" Hadvar snarled.

"Jofari, come on, into the keep!" Ralof called, grabbing my arm. I took one last look behind me at the dragon and the totally destroyed Helgen, then followed him into the keep.


	3. Chapter 3

The keep was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos still going on outside. For the first time since this entire incident began, I started to believe that maybe, just maybe, we really would make it out of here alive.

Turning to me, Ralof said, "Looks like you and I are the only ones who made it. That thing was a dragon. No doubt. Just like the children's stories and the legends. The harbingers of the End Times."

"I know," I agreed quietly. "But we can't worry about that now. We should probably get moving."

"You're right," he said. "Come here. Let me see if I can get those bindings off." I stepped forward, and after a moment of fiddling with my bonds, Ralof was able to cut me free.

"You may as well take Gunjar's gear," Ralof said, gesturing to a dead Stormcloak soldier lying in a pool of blood in the corner. "He won't be needing it anymore."

Part of me balked at the thought of taking supplies from a dead body. It seemed wrong, somehow. But my more pragmatic nature won out. I needed gear, and it wasn't like Gunjar was going to miss it. He was dead. It was silly of me to be squeamish about it. Gunjar was a tall man, and his armor was a loose fit, but it was much better than my own tattered clothing. His boots were too big for me, and I had to stuff my footwraps in the toes to keep them on my feet. Gunjar's gear would suffice for now, but I hoped I would be able to acquire better fitting equipment soon. Gunjar carried an axe, which wasn't my first choice of weapon. I had always imagined myself swinging a sword. But it was sharp, and it would do some serious damage to anyone who thought to attack me. The weight of the axe on my back was reassuring, even if I didn't really know how to wield it.

Ralof and I were about to leave the entrance of the keep and look for a way out when we heard voices echoing from further up the hallway.

"Imperial soldiers," Ralof whispered. "Take cover." We tried in vain to avoid a fight, but we were too late to hide. The Imperials had already spotted us.

"Stormcloaks!" the Imperial Captain shouted. "Don't let them get away!" I found myself being attacked, and I desperately swung my new axe, trying to hit my attacker and avoid his sword at the same time. This fighting thing was so much harder than I had imagined it would be. I spent more time dodging than I did striking back, and my few attacks were clumsy and easily blocked. I was floundering. It was only a matter of time before I was killed or recaptured. At this point, I wasn't sure which was preferable. If I was recaptured, I was still bound for the execution block, so I guess it didn't really matter anyway. I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold out, but luckily for me, Ralof cut it, disposing of my attacker with astounding efficiency.

"Thanks," I panted. Ralof just grunted at me, apparently disgusted by my uselessness. I had become a liability, not an asset.

"Maybe one of these Imperials has a key to that door over there," Ralof said. A quick search showed that the Imperial Captain was in fact carrying a key, and we were able to open the locked door, which lead to a long hallway, dimly lit by torchlight.

_Well this is creepy, _I thought to myself. I didn't say anything out loud though. It was bad enough that I was pretty useless in a fight. I didn't need Ralof thinking I was afraid of the dark too. I let Ralof take the lead, just in case any more Imperial soldiers came through.

"Trolls blood," he gasped when we reached the end of the hallway. "It's a torture room!" Peering in, I saw a pattern of blood splotches painting the floor, and there were dead bodies everywhere. A few skeletal looking prisoners still lingered in the cells, barely clinging to life. I drew in a sharp breath. Execution might not have been ideal, but at least that would have been a quick death. The people here were dying long, slow, painful deaths. It reminded me that although I was less than pleased by my current situation, it could have been much, much worse.

"Hear that?" Ralof asked, pausing a minute. I listened, but didn't hear anything.

"Hear what?" I asked.

"There's fighting up ahead. Get you weapon ready, and be on your guard." I held my axe awkwardly away from my body, afraid I would accidently cut myself. Ralof had an uncanny sense of direction, and he led me to a larger room, where the torturer and his assistant was fighting with a small group of Stormcloak soldiers. We stepped in to lend a hand, or at least Ralof did—I just kind of watched awkwardly. Moments later, the torturer and his assistant lay dead. I couldn't bring myself to feel upset about their deaths. Anyone who was capable of inflicting that much pain on others deserved whatever was coming to them.

Ralof turned to the other Stormcloak soldiers. "Was Jarl Ulfric with you?" he asked.

"No, I haven't seen him since the dragon showed up," one of the Stormcloaks answered. Part of me was relieved. I had lost all respect for the Imperials, but that didn't mean I was ready to take up the Stormcloak cause either. If Jarl Ulfric hadn't made it out of Helgen, then maybe this civil war would finally be over. I felt a little bad for thinking that way. Ralof seemed like a really nice guy, and he seemed to respect Ulfric. I wanted to trust his judgment, but after everything I had been through, I didn't feel like I could trust anyone of authority. I was better off just avoiding higher-ups altogether.

While they were talking, I looked around the cages for any useful items. I needed money if I wanted to buy myself better fitting clothes, and I didn't want to resort to stealing. Looting bodies was my best bet. The torturer and his assistant didn't have much worth taking, although the torturer had a sword, which I promptly traded my axe for. The sword was much lighter and easier to swing than the heavy axe, and I hoped that I would prove more adept with the sword than I had with the axe. A knapsack sitting on the table in the center of the room had a few lock picks and medicine. I used the lock picks to open a few of the cages, which earned me a few gold pieces and a spell book. Lock picking was one of the more useful skills I had picked up. My mother always despaired of what she called my "dishonest ways," but I had never actually picked locks to steal things. It was just a game. It was like solving a puzzle. If you could apply the right amount of force to the right area of the lock, you could release the mechanism and the door would open. Too much force, and the lock pick would break. Not enough force, and the lock wouldn't budge. Here and now, I realized for the first time how useful lock picking could prove to be.

"Let's get going," Ralof said, grabbing my arm and pulling me from the room. "We're not in the clear yet." Following yet another dark hallway, we heard the voices of Imperial soldiers.

"We are to wait here until General Tullius arrives with further orders," an Imperial soldier said forcefully.

"I'm not waiting here to be killed by a dragon!" another Imperial argued. Ralof grinned maliciously, pulling out his iron war-axe. I pulled out my sword, and we crept up on the Imperials, killing several before they realized what was going on.

"Die rebel!" a particularly beefy looking man shouted, swinging his axe at my head. I ducked, and managed to slice his right arm with my sword. I didn't hit hard enough to make him drop his weapon, but his arm was tender enough that he moved it a little slower, giving me more of an opportunity to counter-attack. This time, I at least managed to defend myself respectably, even if my fighting was awkward and unskilled. It took me a while, but I actually managed to kill my attacker after several long minutes of struggling. I looked up to see the other Stormcloaks waiting impatiently for me.

"Took you long enough," Ralof said with a grin, wiping blood from his blade. He had dropped 3 Imperials in the time it had taken me to finish one, and he didn't even look any worse for the wear. I just shook my head, refusing to rise to his bait. I knew he was just teasing me. If he had thought I was really in trouble, he wouldn't have hesitated to step in. I was proud that he hadn't needed to. Perhaps I wasn't hopeless after all.

"Let's go on ahead. See if the way is clear," Ralof said, addressing the whole group of Stormcloaks. As one unit, we marched forward, weapons held at the ready in case of another Imperial attack. I felt safer being with such a large group. With this many people, even if we were attacked by a group of Imperials, we would be able to deal with it. There was a security in numbers, even if everyone in our group wasn't a skilled warrior.

Ralof and I took the lead; Ralof because he was a natural leader and the other Stormcloaks looked up to him, and me because I was depending on Ralof to get me out of here, and I didn't want to risk losing track of him. We hadn't gone far when the entire building started to shake, and a section of ceiling came crumbling down behind us. I raised my arms in an effort to keep the flying debris from hitting my face. When I lowered my hands, I saw that our way back had been blocked by fallen stone. There was no turning back now.

"Are you guys okay?" I called to the Stormcloaks still on the other side of the wall. Ralof and I were the only ones who had made it through before the ceiling collapsed.

"We're fine," someone answered, "but it looks like we'll have to find another way out."

Turning to Ralof, I said, "Well, it looks like it's just you and me now." We continued in amiable silence. I looked around in wonder at our surroundings. We had come to a tunnel, and a river flowed beneath our feet. I would never have guessed that a place like this would have been accessible through Helgen Keep. On the plus side, there were no more Imperials to attack us. As long as we could find our way out, Ralof and I would be able to put this whole nasty business behind us.

I allowed myself to relax a little for the first time since I had woken up on the cart next to Ralof and Ulfric. Unfortunately, no sooner had I started to relax when we were attacked by frostbite spiders. I hated frostbite spiders. They were the size of a small dog, and extremely poisonous. Back home, everyone took great pains to avoid them. They were notoriously hard to kill. Here, though, I had no such luxury. Pulling out my sword yet again, I swung blindly, hoping we weren't about to become their next meal. There were only three of them, and I managed to kill off the smallest while Ralof dealt with the other two.

Pulling his axe out of a dead spider carcass, Ralof said, "I hate those things. Too many eyes, you know?" I agreed wholeheartedly, and kept a careful watch for others as we continued to follow the river. We didn't see any more frostbite spiders, but there was a sleeping bear near the entrance of the cave.

"We can sneak past it, or we can try to fight it," Ralof told me. "The choice is yours." As far as I was concerned, there was no choice. Between the Imperials and the spiders, I had already seen more combat than I wanted to. As we snuck past the bear, I held my breath, hardly daring to breathe for fear of waking the bear. The moments dragged on as we crept slowly by. I wanted to move quickly and get this over with, especially since the bear was now the only thing standing between me and my freedom. I could see light from an opening just past the bear's sleeping spot. We were almost out. But it wouldn't do to be too hasty. I didn't want to rush and risk waking the bear. Better to take my time and make sure that we made it past safely. After a few minutes that seemed to last for hours, we emerged in the bright sunlight, and I collapsed on the ground in relief. I had escaped at last.


	4. Chapter 4

My first impulse was to run and leave Helgen Keep far behind. I was so relieved to be free that I actually started to, but Ralof stopped me.

"Wait," he yelled, pulling me behind a rock. He pointed up at the sky, to where the dragon was still circling over Helgen. We waited a minute, crouched behind the rock, until the dragon finally flew off and disappeared onto the horizon. "There he goes," Ralof said. "Looks like he's gone for good this time." We emerged from our hiding place, and I stood there, uncertain of what to do next.

"Now what?" I asked him. I didn't want to rush of and leave him, but I also didn't really want him to pressure me into joining the Stormcloaks. Honestly, I wasn't sure what I wanted to do. Part of me thought I should just go home, but I had finally found the adventure I had been craving. Sure, it had been a little scary, but I had made it through. And it had been kind of exhilarating. I didn't think I could just go back to farming after everything I had been through. At least, not before I had gotten a chance to explore and see what life is like outside of a small family farm.

"No way to know if anyone else made it out alive. But this place is going to be swarming with Imperials soon enough. We'd better clear out of here," Ralof said sensibly. I couldn't argue with that. I let Ralof take the lead, since he seemed to know where he was going, and I had absolutely no idea where I was.

"My sister Gerdur runs the mill in Riverwood, just up the road. I'm sure she'd help you out."

"Wait, aren't you coming with me?" I asked. I didn't want to join the Stormcloaks, but I also didn't like the idea of being left out here in the middle of nowhere all by myself. The last time I had been by myself in unfamiliar territory, I had managed to get myself captured by Imperials and nearly executed.

"It's probably best if we split up," Ralof replied, not giving me an explanation. I didn't ask for one, even though I was curious at his sudden need to run. "Good luck. I wouldn't have made it without your help today." Somehow, I doubted that. Ralof had been the one saving me, not the other way around.

"Can we stay together just a little longer?" I pleaded. "Just help me get to Riverwood, and then we can go our separate ways. I don't want to risk being caught by Imperials."

"Fine," Ralof grunted. I followed him down the road a ways. "See that ruin up there?" Ralof asked, pointing to a mountain across the lake from us. "That's Bleak Falls Barrow. I never understood how my sister could stand living in the shadow of that place."

"Is it haunted?" I asked tentatively. It looked a little imposing to me.

Ralof snorted in laughter. "No, it's not haunted! You don't really believe in ghosts and stuff, do you?" I stayed quiet, afraid of saying something stupid again. "It's home to some bandits and low-lifes. Riverwood has had trouble with bandit raids for years. But I guess you get used to it." I didn't see how you could ever get used to bandits. Weren't they afraid of being killed in a raid? Didn't it frustrate them, having vultures prey on their livelihoods? I figured that I would see if there was anything I could do to help them with the bandit problem while I was in Riverwood. Maybe I could get a group together to go clear out Bleak Falls Barrow. I wasn't sure I was up for fighting off bandits singlehandedly, but someone should stand up to those bullies.

"What are those rocks up ahead?" I asked, pointing to three large, upright stones standing in a cluster. It looked like they had markings all over them.

"These are the guardian stones, three of the ancient standing stone's that dot Skyrim's landscape. If you choose to accept the sign of one of the stones, it will help you learn skills faster. But you can only accept one stone at a time." I looked at each of the three stones carefully. It wouldn't hurt to accept one of the stone's signs. It sounded like superstitious folklore to me, but if it actually worked, who was I to question it? There were three for me to choose from: the thief stone, the mage stone, and the warrior stone. I had no trouble choosing. I had already been in enough trouble, so I had no desire to resort to stealing. I wanted to make sure I stayed on the right side of the law for a while. And magic made me uncomfortable, so the mage stone was out. That left the warrior stone. And really, I needed all the help I could get in that department, especially if I hoped to join the Companions someday.

"Warrior, good!" Ralof said after I had accepted the warrior stone. "Those stars will lead you to honor and glory."

"I'm not sure about honor and glory," I replied, "but hopefully it will help keep me alive."

Ralof laughed at that. "The path of the warrior is never an easy one. But it's worth it, in the end." He turned and continued walking toward Riverwood, and I followed him. The village wasn't much farther. I could already see it in the distance. "Remember, this isn't Stormcloak territory," Ralof said, reminding me that we weren't completely out of danger. "If we're ahead of the news from Helgen, we should be fine as long as we don't do anything stupid."

"And if we aren't ahead of the news from Helgen?" I asked.

"Then we'll have to fight our way free or be recaptured," Ralof said pragmatically.

"I was afraid you'd say that," I groaned.

"Look, if we run into any Imperials, you just let me do the talking," Ralof grinned, patting his axe fondly. I had the distinct impression that he meant to negotiate with his weapon, not with words. But I didn't say anything, just shook my head. "I'm glad you decided to come with me," he said, noticing that my face had paled at the thought of another confrontation with the Imperials. "We're almost to Riverwood." I just hoped that the Imperials weren't waiting for us when we got there.

"There's my sister's mill over there," Ralof said, pointing. "You should go talk to her. Just tell her that I sent you, and she should be more than happy to help you out. We really should split up now. If there are Imperials around, you'll be safer without me. They'll recognize me for sure, and if they see you with me, you'll be guilty by association."

"The Stormcloak uniform isn't going to help my case any," I pointed out sensibly.

"True enough," Ralof said. "You know, you should really consider taking up the Stormcloak cause. We could offer you some protection from the Imperials, and you've seen firsthand what the Imperials are really like."

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm not really ready to get involved in any wars yet," I told him. "Fighting's not really my strong-suit. I just wanted to explore the world a little before settling down as a farmer like my parents."

"Well, if you change your mind, you can always head to Windhelm and talk to Jarl Ulfric. I'm sure he'd be happy to have you join our cause." I just nodded politely, afraid of offending him by admitting that I wasn't a supporter of the Stormcloaks. I would find a way to deal with the Stormcloak uniform later. Maybe I could upgrade to better fitting armor soon. I would need to talk to the Riverwood trader to see if his prices were reasonable. I didn't think

I would bother talking to Ralof's sister. It didn't seem right, somehow, to ask her for help when I was so reluctant to side with her brother in the war. She lived in Imperial territory, so maybe she would understand where I was coming from, but I didn't want to take that chance. Besides, she didn't know me. She had no obligation to help me, and I felt wrong asking her to. Ralof went ahead of me, apparently to visit his sister before heading out. I took my time, looking around Riverwood. There was a blacksmith out front, working at the forge, and his daughter stood near him, eager to help. I passed a sign for the trader's, and made a mental note to come back and talk to him about getting new gear later. But first, I wanted to explore a little.

The first person I ran into was a bard that was arguing with his mother, who claimed to have seen a dragon. "Dragons now, is it? If you keep on like this mother, everyone in the town is going to think you're crazy."

"I don't mean to interrupt," I said, "but I just saw a dragon in Helgen. I barely escaped with my life."

"Dragons in Helgen?" the bard said slowly, clearly not believing me. "Truly? So maybe my mother isn't crazy after all." I didn't have any proof to offer other than my own word, so I continued on my way, letting him resume his argument with his mother. It wasn't my place to intervene, although I suspected the woman wasn't mistaken. She actually had seen a dragon, even if no one else would believe her.

"Hey, new to Riverwood? If you're looking for work, go see Hod at the mill."

"Thank you ma'am," I said politely. I needed to go find this Hod. I could use the money.

"Wait," she said as I turned to leave. "You were with Ralof, right? He told me about you. Said you might need some help. Here's the key to my house. Stay as long as you like. And just let me know if there's anything else you need."

"That's awfully kind of you, ma'am," I told her. "But you really don't need to do that. I don't really know Ralof all that well. We just escaped Helgen together."

"What's all of this all about?" the woman, who I presumed to be Gerdur, Ralof's sister, asked. "What are you two doing here?"

"A dragon attacked Helgen and destroyed it. Ralof and I escaped together," I explained.

"A dragon… in Helgen? No, it can't be. Although… it would explain what I saw earlier…flying down the valley from the south… I thought I must have just been seeing things, but…"  
"It was a dragon," I confirmed. "Ralof will tell you the same thing."

"I don't know why, but I actually believe you," she said. "You've got the look of someone who's just seen a dragon." Frankly, I'm not sure there would be much difference in the look of shock between a person who had just seen a dragon and a person that had narrowly escaped her own execution, but I wasn't about to argue semantics. "First the war, now dragons? What's this world coming to? The Jarl needs to know if there's a dragon on the loose. Riverwood is defenseless. We need to get word to Jarl Balfruuf in Whiterun to send whatever troops he can. If you'll do that for me, I'll be in your debt."

"No, I'm already in your debt for the kindness you have shown me. We'll be even," I said firmly. Apparently, I was going to Whiterun to talk to the Jarl. I wondered if they would even let me in to see him. I wasn't anyone important by any stretch of the imagination.

"Well, thank you," Gerdur said. "Take whatever supplies you need." After loading up on enough food and water to last a while, plus a few gold pieces in case I ran into trouble, I found myself on the way to Whiterun. Apparently, my journey was just beginning. Looking back at Riverwood, I promised myself I would return to the sleepy little mill town the first chance I got and do something about that bandit problem. I felt like I had been given a second chance at life, and it was my responsibility to do something meaningful with it.


End file.
